You'll Be In My Heart
by Glenstorm
Summary: A series of vignettes throughout the life of Master and Padawan.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: You'll Be In My Heart.

**Author**: Glenstorm

**Characters**: Qui/Obi

**Genre**: Songfic. Mush-fest. Angst. Hurt/Comfort (In fact, all the things we love.)

**Summary: **A series of vignettes set throughout the lives of Master and Padawan.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Song belongs to Phil Collins and the film _Tarzan._

"Presenting Padawan Xanatos for creche duty, Master Hallan," Qui-Gon announced to the senior Master as he stood behind his ominously silent Padawan.

"Ah, Master Jinn. Good, good. This the boy?" The aging creche Master peered up at the raven haired apprentice, whose expression was nearly a black as his hair. "Hmmm. Well, come along then, young man, there's plenty to do!" Master Hallan turned away, then without even looking back stated: "And take that look off your face, you'll scare the children!"

Qui-Gon laughed as Xanatos' scowl deepened further still.

Paying the suddenly dangerous expression no mind, he clapped his apprentice on the shoulder and gave him a slight push forward. "Listen to Master Hallan, Padawan," he said before dropping his voice low for Xanatos' ears only. "The Council could have assigned you a worse punishment."

The look Xanatos directed at his Master was nothing short of mutinous. Without a word he stalked away after Master Hallan.

Qui-Gon shook his head in silent amusement. It seemed creche duty was as popular as ever. A thorn in the side of every Padawan since the dawn of time. Especially for his haughty charge.

To say he hated it would be a gross understatement. But Xanatos only had himself to blame for this and he would just have to deal with the consequences. Qui-Gon could not rescue him this time--Yoda had warned him with an unusually severe glance, firmly overruling any protest he might have made in his Padawan's frequent defence.

Still, as he'd said, it could have been worse.

Casting one last look at the door through which his Padawan had disappeared, Qui-Gon started for the exit.

And was quite unprepared when the squall of an infant drew him to an abrupt halt.

Jolted from his thoughts, Qui-Gon frowned, confused as to why the sound had stopped him so abruptly in mid stride. Considering the area that he was in, it was not an uncommon occurrence to hear one child or more grousing over some minor grievance or another. So why was he here, suddenly perched tense in a doorway.

It was like a cord had been pulled.

Listening carefully now, he waited until the thready wail reached him again and was surprised when he experienced the same strange _tug_. That cry… There was something about it. It just compelled him to turn round. Turn round and see.

Curiosity peeked, Qui-Gon moved back into the creche, letting the sound of the throaty squalls lead him to a corridor that branched away from the main creche area. He followed it until he came upon an open doorway. Without the slightest hesitation, the Master strode through.

The room beyond was large, filled with a soothing, golden light that immediately set the senses at ease. Twenty cots lined the walls on either side, each one containing a tiny infant.

Qui-Gon passed by the nearest cot where a white-haired human boy was gripping the bars, struggling to balance on wobbly feet as he peered curiously up at Qui-Gon, throwing the occasional scathing look at the cot next door with icy blue eyes.

Ignoring him, Qui-Gon stepped straight up to the offending crib and looked down.

Lying in the centre was a small golden-haired child. He couldn't have been above seven or eight months old, far too young it seemed to know true grief, but the little body was curled upon itself, heaving with the force of wracking sobs. The Force fairly vibrated with the baby's distress.

Qui-Gon's breath caught at the sight, finally realising why he had been drawn here. What he was seeing was most definitely not a small childish upset.

Frown deepening, the Master cast around for the minder of this infant clan and spotted her walking down the aisle towards him, checking each baby as she went. As she drew near Qui-Gon pulled her aside.

"How come he's crying like that?" he asked, concern overriding any preamble.

"Oh," the clan leader glanced into the cot. A fleeting sorrow touched her heavy features. "Poor little mite. He's not long arrived," she sighed. "He's been having some trouble adjusting to leaving his family behind. His mother most of all. I believe the Master who discovered him had some trouble getting him to let go of her. She used to hold him quite a lot, I'm told, and now he can't understand why she's not here to comfort him." The woman caught Qui-Gon's stricken look and tried quickly to assure him. "Don't worry, Master Jinn," she said, "it's only natural. All of the new initiates go through this in one degree or another. He'll settle." She smiled and squeezed his arm before continuing calmly on her round leaving the Jedi Master in her wake.

Qui-Gon watched her go. He supposed he was expected to leave as well. But he could only stand, frozen over the cot, struggling to absorb the clan leader's words as the baby's wails grew more heart rending.

He couldn't do it.

Maybe it was his connection to the Living Force, or maybe it was because he didn't have the clan leader's callous logic over this situation--not having watched infants arrive, scared and confused, for so long that it became a normal, every day occurrence to him. But for whatever the reason Qui-Gon could not just walk away and leave this baby to his grief.

To 'settle' as it was put.

He had to do something.

Carefully he leaned down and stroked a hand over the silken ginger hair. "It's alright, little one," he whispered, reaching out with a tendril of the Force to touch the baby boy's mind.

Straight away raw emotions swamped his senses. Confusion. Fear. Loneliness. The need for a mother was almost overwhelming. But she was gone, her comforting warmth left far behind and now there were only strangers. The love that had been the very centre of this boy's world was gone.

Qui-Gon felt tears prickle the back of his own eyes. He had never considered taking children away from their parents as more _wrong_ than he did in that moment.

He couldn't bear listening to these cries anymore. It might just break him.

Acting on a sudden impulse and ignoring the spike of jealousy from the cot next door, he swept the baby into his arms and held him close, absorbing some of the terrible hurt into himself while sending out soothing waves into the baby's heart and mind in an attempt to calm him.

He would remain here forever if he had to.

Time passed, seconds collecting into long, patient minutes until finally the terrible tension began to ease and Qui-Gon felt the tiny body relax minutely against him.

The Master found himself releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

Yet despite his progress, the child's eyes remained tight shut, tears continuing to leak heavily from beneath the thick lashes-- shutters that protected him from the sight of his new world and the strange giant now holding him.

Qui-Gon brushed at the downy brow. "Aren't you even going to look at me?" he asked as lightly as he could.

The boy only tightened his lids more firmly and gave another hearty sob.

An obvious 'no'.

Sighing, Qui-Gon continued his patient ministrations until slowly, very slowly, the baby's cries began to fade away.

"That's it, little one, calm now," he murmured as the sobs ebbed to mere hitching breaths. "Everything will be alright."

At long last, watery grey eyes blinked open and took their first wary glance into his face.

Qui-Gon smiled. "That's better. I'm not that bad to look at, really."

The baby made no noise, just continued to watch him curiously and Qui-Gon was surprised to feel a slight 'nudge' somewhere in the back of his mind as those eyes connected with his.

The baby must have felt it too because his wary curiosity turned instantly into a kind of wonder. Reaching out with a pudgy little fist he found one of Qui-Gon's calloused fingers and took hold of it, gripping on as if he never meant to let go.

Warmed beyond measure, the Jedi Master curled the chosen finger around the tiny hand, fully aware in that moment that if a whole army of Togorian warriors were to charge through this room, not one of them would lay so much as a claw on this child while there was still breath left in him. He would do anything.

The little boy smiled, as if sensing the protective thought.

Qui-Gon returned the gesture tenderly. "That's right, young one. I'm here. No more tears."

A wave of trust swept over the Force as the baby relaxed completely into Qui-Gon's warmth. Overtaxed grey eyes grew drowsy. Or were they blue now?

Silently wondering the Jedi Master found a makeshift seat and sat down with his burden. "Rest now, little one," he murmured softly. "Everything will be alright."

The baby did not need any more suggestion than that. He was exhausted beyond measure. Qui-Gon shifted his arms and drew protective energy around them both, rocking gently as the child drifted away.

He kept watch like that for many hours until the tears dried upon the tiny face. And as he brushed at the soft fingers still gripping so tenaciously to his own, he smiled quietly to himself.

Everything would indeed be fine…

_Come stop your crying  
It will be all right  
Just take my hand  
Hold it tight_

I will protect you  
From all around you  
I will be here  
Don't you cry

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

"Mast'a!"

The whimper cut through the black fog in his head, tugging at the back of his mind.

_"Mast'a!_ 'ake up!"

Qui-Gon stirred slightly, the floor under his body grinding strangely beneath his shifting weight as he tried to waken. A lot of sharp rocks were digging into his back-his sluggish senses were kind enough to inform him of that much-and a choking grit filled the air, coating his throat every time he tried to breathe in. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

"Mast'a?" That voice again. Carefully Qui-Gon opened his stinging eyes. Not that he gained much from it. It was dark. Very dark and all around he had the dreaded feeling of an oppressive weight baring down upon him.

_What?_

Struggling to find the memory that placed him here, Qui-Gon touched a hand to his aching temples and was alarmed when his questing touch came away warm and sticky.

He was bleeding, he realised. His skull felt tender and bruised beneath his touch. Never a good sign.

Fighting against the disorientation, Qui-Gon managed to pull together enough thought to draw an emergency glow stick from his utility belt. Cracking it with unsteady hands he flooded the space around him with an instant light.

A split second and he almost wished he'd left himself in the ignorant darkness.

_Oh. Good. Force._

Blinking dark-adjusted eyes against the light he found himself lying in a tight pocket of space, buried and surrounded by countless tons of steel and permacrete. Completely and totally _trapped--_

A little hiss of pain brought on by the sudden brightness grabbed his attention before a flutter of panic could set in. Squinting his eyes, Qui-Gon peered into the nearest corner. Half hidden in the shadow of a giant steel girder huddled a small boy. He was watching Qui-Gon out of eyes grown large with fear. "Mast'a?" he whimpered.

At the sight of him, Qui-Gon's memory jolted.

He had been headed for the Archives when the Force had screamed warning. Passing by a class of younglings and their teacher, he just had the chance to detect the smell of something strange in the air before he had flung himself sideways into an adjoining room, grabbing one of the children--a boy--who had for some reason stopped to stare at him.

No sooner had he dived from the corridor, when the whole Temple seemed to tremble. The heat of an explosion seared Qui-Gon's back, blasting him forward faster than his own leap could carry him. He landed hard shielding the child with his own body as the world began to come down around them. Then… blackness.

Qui-Gon's shot open. Gas explosion. The smell of it still lingered in his nostrils.

He looked over at the child he had grabbed and fervently hoped that the rest of his class had made it to safety.

The child was trembling as he sat beneath the girder--a thick beam of steel that was probably the only thing preventing the rubble above from collapsing upon them and eagerly snuffing out the last pocket of life remaining in its midst.

It was really only by the grace of the Force that they had survived at all.

Qui-Gon shuddered.

Twisting his mind away from such morbid thoughts, Qui-Gon tried to shift into a sitting position.

Hell fire chewed up his back and his head throbbed unmercifully. Hissing between clenched teeth Qui-Gon just about managed to lean up on one elbow. That would be enough for now he decided, and his body agreed. He turned his attention back to the boy.

"Are you alright, young one?" he asked, stalwartly keeping the pain and worry from his voice. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no," came the small answer.

"Good." Qui-Gon squinted into the shadows. The boy was staring up at the ominous ceiling, the treat of tears glinting in the harsh artificial light. "It dark, Mast'a," Qui-Gon could feel his terror bubbling just beneath the surface. Only the boy's rudimentary training in controlling his fear was keeping him from full blown panic. "Dark. You's sleep. No 'ake up! I's 'lone."

"It's alright," Qui-Gon eased. "I'm with you now." He filled the small space with quiet assurance, soothing the child. "Someone will find us soon enough and then everything will be alright, yes?"

The small boy nodded and the terror of being left alone in the dark with an unconscious Master began to ebb.

"Right." Qui-Gon looked the boy over, and quite unexpectedly a name jumped out at him. "Ben?"

It must have come from somewhere within the child himself, for Qui-Gon had never heard the name before.

The boy looked surprised but hardly displeased. A flicker of distant recognition passed over his face.

"Is that your name?"

The look vanished. "Noooo. My name Ob- Obi-" The child struggled with the syllables then gave up around the grit in his mouth and missing teeth. "Ben, Mast'a. I kinda like dat. Some reason."

"Well, Ben it is then." Qui-Gon agreed. He would have liked to have known the child's real name but 'Ben' was something to be getting on with. Maybe an endearment crooned by a mother when her baby remained safe in her arms…

It certainly seemed to be less long-winded than whatever the boy had tried to pronounce. It would definitely use less oxygen and Qui-Gon surmised that that simple thing was about to become a precious commodity.

Most definitely. Fighting through a sudden wave of dizziness Qui-Gon beckoned with his free hand. "Come here, my little friend. Don't be afraid."

A shift of rubble and the child shuffled over to Qui-Gon's side. His face was plastered in dust and reddish brown hair stuck up in every direction, but his eyes had suddenly become bright with indignation.

"I not little," he told Qui-Gon firmly. "I nearly four."

Qui-Gon couldn't keep himself from chuckling. "That you are, Ben," he said.

But the boy wasn't listening anymore. Concern replaced the indignation in his eyes as he reached out a tiny hand to touch Qui-Gon's temple. "Mast'a, you hurt!" A heavy little frown creased between his brows, fear beginning to take hold of him again.

Qui-Gon lifted a hand weighing twice as much as usual and gently squeezed the boy's searching fingers. "I'll be fine, Ben," he said. "Now, what would you and your clan be doing this afternoon if you weren't here with me?"

Ben stared apprehensively at the gash on Qui-Gon's head for a second longer before answering. "It story day. Mast'a Allen was goin' to read us stories." The child suddenly beamed, distracted as Qui-Gon had hoped. "I like stories. Today my fav'ite day."

Qui-Gon smiled at him, eyes crinkling. "Well then, who am I to break with creche routine? Would you like me to tell you a story, Ben?"

The smile that answered would have lit the Dark Side itself. "Yes!" Then the boy seemed to remember that he was addressing a Master and controlled his enthusiasm somewhat. "Yes please, Mast'a."

Qui-Gon laughed at the suddenly solemn face. He found himself warming more to this child with each passing minute. Gently he ruffled the short auburn hair and still smiling said. "Very well then, Ben, I shall tell you a story."

And so Qui-Gon began.

Although not a man of many words, he could tell tales with the best of them and very soon held his audience of one spellbound, effortlessly winding together threads of traditional storytelling with life experiences of his own -- adding just the right touch of embellishment here and there, of course.

As the tale continued, Qui-Gon grew pleased with how his distraction was working. Ben had completely forgotten that the Master he was sitting with under a great pile of rubble was injured. Qui-Gon only wished it was as easy to distract himself. The waves of dizziness were getting worse and he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. His eyelids felt like lead and somewhere in the middle of his story he had to stop to collect himself.

"You stopped at the good bit!" Ben's protest pulled him back. The boy was completely unaware of the reason behind Qui-Gon's pause, for which the Master was eternally grateful.

Apologising for his atrocious breach of etiquette, Qui-Gon used the Force to push away the blackness that was pulling at him and valiantly continued with his masterpiece.

When it was finally finished Ben gave a theatric sigh. "That was good. Even betta than Mast'a Allen!"

Qui-Gon laughed gently. "I'm honoured," he said, then lowered his voice. "But don't ever tell him that, Ben. It might hurt his feelings. It'll have to be our little secret."

Ben grinned with delight and leaned his head close whispering in the same conspiring tone. "No worry, Mast'a. I not tell."

"Thank you, my young friend."

"'Nother! 'Nother!" Ben pleaded.

Qui-Gon drew a long silent breath. It was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but it seemed to be the only thing to keep Ben distracted from the serious situation they were in - and the only thing to keep himself awake. Slowly Qui-Gon began to wrack his aching brains for another tale to tell.

He was just weaving together the final threads when suddenly there came the most terrifying sound he had ever heard in his life - the sound of rock shifting harshly against rock.

Qui-Gon felt Ben stiffen even as his own breath lodged in his throat. A vision of the rocky ceiling collapsing down upon them strobed terribly through his mind.

But nothing moved. Even as their wide eyes stared anxiously, the ceiling remained in place.

Relaxing slightly, Qui-Gon strained his ears, hope quickly replacing the fear within him. If the roof wasn't collapsing, then… There! Voices. People were moving about up there, sifting through the ruins.

He turned to the anxious young boy at his side. "It's alright, Ben. They're are here for us. We'll be out of here in no time."

The child's face brightened. "Really. I go home to Garen and everyone?"

Qui-Gon smiled reassuringly. "Yes, Ben."

The boy fairly beamed with delight and looked up at the heavy ceiling with renewed eagerness.

It was not long before a voice called out. "Is there anyone down there?!" The call was accompanied by a desperate probe of the Force.

Qui-Gon found quite suddenly that he had never been so glad to hear Mace Windu's voice. Clearing his throat, he called back. "Yes, but I'm not sure how far down."

There came a noise like a disbelieving snort. "Qui-Gon Jinn? Why is it wherever there's trouble you'll be in the thick of it! Are you hurt?"

Qui-Gon glanced at Ben before saying slowly: "Yes. I have a head injury and I'm starting to find it… hard to remain conscious. But there is also a young initiate down here with me, though he is uninjured as far as I can tell."

Somewhere Qui-Gon thought he heard a cry of relief.

"Master Allen was very pleased to hear that, Qui-Gon," Mace said. "Just hang on now. We'll be as fast as we can."

The disembodied voice fell silent and the sound of shifting rubble returned with new vigour.

Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the boy sitting next to him. "I think Master Allen is waiting to take you home, my young friend. You'll be able to tell him a story of your own now."

"Yes," the child's lips lifted slightly, but the gesture was only half-hearted. "You not betta, Mast'a."

"I will be, Ben," Qui-Gon assured. "I--"

He stopped as the giant girder above them gave a worrying tremor. Dust rained down upon their upturned faces as the rocks began to shift.

"Mast'a?" Ben's voice shook uncertainly as he shrugged closer to Qui-Gon.

"Stay calm, young one. It's--"

But the rest of his words were cut off as Force screamed across their senses. The girder groaned like a wounded animal, several rocks tearing themselves loose from the ceiling. Qui-Gon grabbed Ben and shielded the boy's body beneath his own as the rubble crashed towards them. One large rock struck his shoulder and Qui-Gon couldn't suppress a yelp of pain.

"Mace, stop!!" he cried. That girder supported everything. If it was moved-- "Stop now!!"

Too late. The great bar of steel buckled and rolled and the whole terrible world began to shift. Shouts and cries of dismay rang out before they too were drowned out in the sudden uproar.

Filled with desperation, Qui-Gon clawed at the Force, pushing it back at the collapsing ceiling with all his might. But he knew before he started that he did not have the strength. His injury had drained him too badly.

_No!_ Despair tore through him like a poisonous blade. He couldn't do it!

Suddenly there was a presence in his mind. He did not know where it came from but it was somehow familiar, almost as if it had been there all along and had only now made itself known. Then with a bolt of certainty, he understood.

_Ben?_ But how--

Qui-Gon had no time to think. Ben had seen what Qui-Gon was trying to do and was now throwing all of his strength at the deadly boulders. Bringing all of his rudimentary training to bear.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. Training blocks were one thing. The infant could not possibly stop this. It was a last valiant attempt but it was far too late. Qui-Gon held the boy's effort strung body beneath him and waited for the inevitable to happen--

--but death never came.

The sound of falling rocks slowly petered out until they ceased altogether. At the last there came a great grinding of stone then… silence. Just the sound of Qui-Gon's own ragged breathing and the pounding of his trembling heart.

Cautiously the Jedi Master opened one eyelid, then the other. Mouth slightly agape, Qui-Gon stared up at the ceiling, now a mere meter from his face. The great girder lay useless beside them but the rocks above were once more still and solid, and most importantly of all: stable.

He could have sworn he heard Yoda's voice cackling at him in that moment. _"Training blocks, ha!"_ it said. _"Size matters not, teach you that eventually, I will!"_

Stunned, Qui-Gon looked down through the swirling dust at the boy beside him. The already pale face was as white as a sheet.

"Qui-Gon! Qui-Gon!" Mace's voice shouted through the silence, as panicked as Qui-Gon had ever heard it. "Answer me, damn it! Qui-Gon!"

Qui-Gon somehow managed to find his voice. "I'm still here, Mace,"

He could sense the disbelief from above. "How on--?! The whole thing caved in!"

"I'll tell you later," Qui-Gon said in a calm tone that he knew would infuriate the other Master. "Just get us out as quickly as you can. But be more careful this time, please. I think I've exhausted one small miracle for today."

Without any further explanation Qui-Gon returned his attention to said miracle. "Ben? Are you alright?"

"We safe now, Mast'a?"

"Yes we are, Ben, thanks to you. You've saved us."

The child smiled and blinked sleepily up at Qui-Gon's face. "Jus' like hero i' story?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes, Ben. Just like him."

The boy beamed then yawned widely. "I tired, Mast'a."

"I should think so. Go to sleep, young one, you've earned it."

The boy needed no more prompting. His eyes drifted shut and he curled closer to Qui-Gon, seeking much needed warmth from the Master's body.

Without thought Qui-Gon closed his arms around the child and was surprised when he was overcome by an overwhelming sense of familiarity and… _rightness._

Mystified Qui-Gon wondered again at how Ben had managed to link with him, to see what he had been trying to do with the Force and emulate it. Such a feat usually required a strong bond between a full Master and his Padawan. Qui-Gon looked down at the boy. He didn't even know the child's real name and Ben did not know his, Qui-Gon realised suddenly.

A sleepy voice cut though his musings. "Know who you are."

Startled, Qui-Gon asked. "Who am I, Ben?"

A slight knowing smile touched the small lips. "You my Mast'a."

Qui-Gon felt his breath catch. The tall Jedi stared but Ben said no more.

_My Master._

Could it be possible? Whatever would Xanatos say?

Ben shivered slightly and Qui-Gon tightened his hold. Setting his questions aside, he simply let himself marvel at the tiny form next to him, for there was no doubt in his mind that here in his arms lay the makings of an extraordinary Jedi.

A Jedi to whom he owed his very existence -- with or without his front teeth.

"Rest, Ben," he said above the sounds of their rescue. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Impossibly Ben replied, /Know./

Far beyond surprise Qui-Gon simply smiled and let him rest against his heart.

_For one so small  
You seem so strong  
My arms will hold you,  
Keep you safe and warm_

This bond between us  
Can't be broken  
I will be here  
Don't you cry


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Exhaustion dogged Qui-Gon's steps as he made his way back from the Council debriefing. The mission to Bandomeer had tested him severely. Both physically and emotionally.

Who'd have thought that that unlikely backwater planet could have changed his life so completely. In so short a time it had forced him to confront his own bitter past and finally face up to the approaching future.

And now all he wanted to do was retire, reflect and… sleep.

But no, he had one more duty to perform. A most important ceremony.

Silently he glanced over his shoulder at the young boy following softly in his footsteps. His senses told him that his new Padawan was also having trouble fighting sleep's siren call, even as he carried his small bag of belongings to his new home and life in Qui-Gon's quarters. The mission had been no easier on Obi-Wan than it had been on him. Maybe harder, due in no small part to himself.

Letting the shame for his behaviour wash through him, Qui-Gon promised himself that he would try his hardest to set things right for this boy. Starting this instant. By the time he was finished this evening Obi-Wan Kenobi would no longer have any doubts as to where he belonged. He had to hope for that with all his heart.

The pair reached the Master's quarters and Qui-Gon palmed the door open. He had not stayed in these rooms for a long time and was not surprised when he was greeting by a cool, impersonal atmosphere. The homely feel that the place had enjoyed in years past was gone.

A bit like himself in recent years, he supposed. There hadn't been a young soul and life in here since…

Obi-Wan shifted uneasily beside him, clearly uncomfortable with being in Qui-Gon's private living space. Qui-Gon frowned. He suddenly realised that as of yet he and the boy were still virtual strangers to one another. For all the hardships they had faced together on Bandomeer, they hadn't really had the chance to get to _know_ one another properly. At least not enough to be comfortable in silence. Which was stretching now.

Quickly attempting to ease Obi-Wan's sudden shyness, Qui-Gon stepped forward placing a warm had on the boy's slim shoulder. "Welcome home, Obi-Wan," he said gently. The boy gave him a shy smile and Qui-Gon squeezed his arm in response. Stepping away he pointed to a doorway on the left side of the living space. "Now, that door there leads to the Padawan's room. It is yours now, Obi-Wan. Everything you need you will find in there." He pointed ahead. "Through there lies the kitchen. A place that, unless I'm very much mistaken, will now need constant restocking."

Obi-Wan flushed and Qui-Gon smiled. As a growing thirteen-year-old boy it was no secret that Obi-Wan was a living food vacuum. "And finally that door to the right leads to my room. This is the living space and I hope you will find it comfortable." Finishing his brief tour, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan. "Now why don't you go and unpack. Make the place your own and then have a wash. Pay special attention to your hair."

Obi-Wan looked baffled and not a little hurt by that last statement. _Does he think I'm dirty?_ Qui-Gon didn't need their fledgling bond to read that thought. He smiled slightly. "No, Obi-Wan, but it is rather important for what I'm about to do. Now go on, you have half an hour then I want to see you back in here, please."

Obi-Wan still looked a little confused but nevertheless moved quickly to obey his new Master, walking awkwardly across the living space.

In completely the wrong direction.

"The other left, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon redirected gently.

Flushing right up to the roots of his hair Obi-Wan quickly changed direction and vanished into the Padawan's room.

Qui-Gon hid his amusement behind shields of iron, knowing full well that at this stage in their relationship it would only hurt and embarrass Obi-Wan further. The boy must be truly overwhelmed by all of this to have made a mistake like that.

Shrugging it off Qui-Gon moved into his own room--the one on the right.

He was pleased to note that everything was as he had left it. The cleaning droids had long ago learned not to rearrange his belongings when he was gone.

Going to a high shelf on the far wall Qui-Gon lifted down an ancient leather case. The supple leather was folded three times like a large wallet and bound carefully by a simple leather thong.

Qui-Gon ran his hand reverently over the dark surface, feeling the polished leather beneath his fingertips, leather smooth by countless work-worn hands. It's continued existance was testament to the craftsman long gone and the care of its multiple owners. Even the beautiful tool work was still visible to a certain extent.

The Master tilted his head. The case would be of little worth on the Coruscant market, but to Qui-Gon it was one of the most valuable things he owned. Absently he started tracing his fingers along the fading patterns, thinking of how Master Dooku had bequeathed it to him on his Knighting day, even as his Master's Master had passed it on to Dooku before that. This simple leather case had travelled down a whole line of Jedi, and Qui-Gon would one day be proud to hand it on to his own Padawan, continuing the distinguished chain.

Smiling wistfully Qui-Gon turned and carried his prize back into the living area.

Glancing at the chrono on the wall he saw that he had about fifteen minutes left before Obi-Wan was due back. Plenty of time to prepare.

Placing his folded case on the low living room table Qui-Gon returned to his room. This time he pulled out a long, little used board. Carrying it back into the next room the Master placed it in the middle of the floor and flipped the board over to reveal a full length mirror.

Two meditation mats laid before the mirror finished the effect, one placed in front of the other.

Task complete, Qui-Gon lowered himself to kneel on the rear mat and waited. Slowly he began to gather the Force to him, centring himself in its serene flow in preparation for what was to come. He would need it.

He did not have to wait long. Obi-Wan appeared five minutes before time as Qui-Gon had half expected. The boy hovered nervously in his doorway, wet hair engulfed in a large towel as he waited on his next instruction

He appeared so young and vulnerable standing there. Nothing like the strong, bold, sometimes impatient boy he had met on Bandomeer.

"Come here, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon instructed him gently.

The boy walked across the room towards him taking in the mirror and the mats upon which Qui-Gon waited.

"Kneel before me, Padawan."

Obi-Wan did so, settling on the mat directly in front of Qui-Gon. He knelt there with his hands clasped on his knees, eyes lowered away from the mirror.

They shot up again when Qui-Gon took hold of the towel and began to properly dry his hair. "Master, please, you don't have to…"

"Quiet, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him without pause and Obi-Wan fell silent, eyes returning to the floor, chastised.

Regretting the brusqueness of his order Qui-Gon added in a softer tone. "I know I don't have to, Padawan. But I want to. Please just indulge me for a moment."

He was rewarded when the tension in Obi-Wan's shoulders eased slightly and he allowed Qui-Gon to continue his ministrations, trusting in whatever the Master wished to do.

Gladdened, Qui-Gon carried on with his task until finally he was satisfied that the hair was dry enough for his needs. Setting the damp towel aside he reached for his leather case and placed it at their sides. He caught Obi-Wan giving it a curious glance in the mirror, perhaps wondering what secrets his new Master kept hidden within the leather folds. Qui-Gon suppressed a smile, leaving the case folded and tied. The boy's curiosity could wait a little longer. Instead he reached for a nearby comb and began to brush out the short auburn locks.

Obi-Wan tensed again and Qui-Gon half-expected another protest, but the boy wisely held his silence. Qui-Gon did not pause and by and by the boy relaxed completely under his sure hands, even leaning now and then into the hypnotic rhythm that he created, enjoying the first intimate touch he must have known in a long time. His young soul seemed to cave it. The Force whispered between them, soothing them both.

It was with some regret that Qui-Gon finally laid the brush aside.

Carefully he ran a finger behind Obi-Wan's right ear teasing the remnants of his initiate braid, severed when the boy had been sent to the Agri Corps. Qui-Gon felt the echo of shame and hurt flare to life as his finger brushed over the loose strands.

He squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder reassuringly with his free hand. "I think it's time we corrected this, don't you, Padawan?" he said giving the hair a slight tug.

A flicker of hope. "Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled, it was not a necessary act that he braid his Padawan's hair, many species of Jedi did not grow any at all, but for Qui-Gon it was an important, iconic symbol between a human Master and his Padawan. He suspected Obi-Wan felt the same.

"I would be honoured to give you your Padawan braid, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said and the happiness that flowed from Obi-Wan at those words was all the answer he needed to continue.

"Well then, first I'm going to have to do something about this," the Master tugged again on the short remnants of Obi-Wan's previous, unmarked braid.

He reached for his leather case and started to untie the thong binding it closed. But as he did he was quickly and unwillingly overcome by memories of the last time he had done this. So full of hope and pride as he had woven Xanatos' hair for the first time. Sadness tainted the present moment as he thought of how close Xanatos had come to braking this sacred line.

Was he about to make the same mistake again?

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably, sensing Qui-Gon's sudden reserve.

For the boy's sake he pushed his doubts aside and unfolded the case. He had promised to make things right for this boy. Obi-Wan was very different from Xanatos. He would not let him down.

He watched as the young man's eyes ran over the revealed contents of the precious wallet. Tucked into one side was an ancient pair of scissors. Woven designs criss-crossed blades that still gleamed silver and sharp. Qui-Gon would not be needing those today. Obi-Wan's hair hadn't yet had chance to grow out of the short Padawan cut. Which was a relief. Xanatos had never thought much of his hairdressing skills and he was badly out of practice.

Beside those ancient silver relics were fixed rows upon rows of tiny beads. Faint reds, blues and greens glinted dully up at him, each one a symbol for a level passed. And today one of them would finally be brought back into service.

Moving beyond the beads, his eyes lighted on the far end of the unfurled case where a closed pocket lay waiting.

It was for this pocket that Qui-Gon reached first. With a faint smile adorning his face, he opened the seal and pulled forth a long dark coil of woven hair. Leather bands tied it off at either end, one feathered, the other clean cut.

His very own Padawan braid.

Obi-Wan seemed to have drawn the same conclusion, because the boy was staring at the braid in something close to awe.

Without a word Qui-Gon drew the old braid from its resting place. Holding it reverently between his hands he rolled the last tie up along the smooth, thin rope until a hand's length hung loose. Then without the slightest hesitation Qui-Gon took up the silver scissors and severed the hair just below the tie.

"Hold this for me, Obi-Wan," he asked and placed the piece he had cut into the boy's shaking hand. Quickly he coiled the rest of the braid and placed it safely back into its pocket, closing it with care.

"Now we are ready," he said and held out his hand. Obi-Wan handed back the strands of hair that he guarded so reverently and waited, his young body filled with tense anticipation. He seemed to have guessed what Qui-Gon planned to do.

Qui-Gon absorbed the boy's emotions then let them flow over him as he drew on the power of the Force. Silently he placed the ends of his old Padawan braid against the tips of Obi-Wan's living hair.

Qui-Gon breathed deep. He would need every ounce of concentration for this. Rarely practiced, except when a braid was lost through mishap or misfortune, this act took phenomenal precision and control of the Force.

Still holding their hair together, Qui-Gon let out his breath and began to channel the power he had gathered through his hand.

Gently and oh so very carefully, he began to join the strands.

Which was when the Force suddenly and inexplicably decided to rip control away from him.

Startled and dismayed, he fought desperately to regain it. He couldn't afford for this to go wrong. But his flailing will was overwhelmed and overruled by a power greater than the universe itself.

Consciousness melted away as the power of life took over and he was caught up in the flow, Obi-Wan drawn right along with him. In the Force their signatures met and mingled. Stretching out before them their bond could be seen like twin lines of light. The Force danced around it, binding the lines together, round and round, until they grew and strengthened, becoming infinitely more powerful. The old became young, the young became old, past and future connected, and for a few precious seconds they were one. The Force blessed it.

It seemed forever had passed before Qui-Gon drew breath and slowly returned to himself. Shakily he lifted his forehead from where it had come to rest on the top of Obi-Wan's head even as the boy opened his eyes with a gasp.

"What was that?"

Feeling the last of the Force drift away Qui-Gon found he couldn't answer. Whatever he said would be a lie. He just knew deep down that whatever had happened it had been a sacred and unique event.

Slowly he lifted his trembling hand to look and there in his palm, reflecting the lines of their bond in the Force, lay the joined strands of their hair, seamless and unbroken, auburn flowing like water into the dark brown.

Qui-Gon swallowed, finding voice enough to speak. No, he couldn't say what had happened back there but one thing he did know for certain. He held the tail of hair out between them. "Now, I am part of you, Obi-Wan," he said softly. "Even as you will always be a part of me."

Wasting no time, he separated the strands into three and began weaving them into a braid. Two inches down he paused and pulled free a red bead from his case, the symbol of a Padawan, and carefully wove it into Obi-Wan's hair. That done he continued, each weave binding them ever closer together as Master and Padawan. When he finished the Force sang its approval.

Qui-Gon drew a breath and let it out slowly before dropping the finished braid to Obi-Wan's shoulder and speaking the ritual words. "It is complete. May you wear this braid as a symbol of the commitment we have made to each other--from now until the day of your Knighting--upon which I will be proud to sever it and welcome you to my side, not as my student, but as my trusted equal and beloved brother." Qui-Gon dropped his hands to Obi-Wan's shoulders and squeezed them gently as he spoke the last.

For a moment Obi-Wan remained still, moved beyond words. His left hand came up, reverently touching the completed braid and the bead that was set there. His fingers brushed Qui-Gon's and he looked up meeting Qui-Gon's eyes in the mirror.

The emotion reflected there tightened Qui-Gon's throat even as it flooded their completed bond with quiet joy. He squeezed Obi-Wan's fingers.

"I welcome you now as my Padawan Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he murmured. _And may you be so for many years to come._

After tonight he didn't think the Force would have it any other way.

The thought served to drown all the remaining shadows from Qui-Gon's mind even as his soul overflowed with happiness.

He could finally begin to live again.

_Cause you'll be in my heart  
Yes, you'll be in my heart  
From this day on  
Now and forever more. . .  
Always_


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

"Do you understand the seriousness of your actions, Padawan Kenobi?" Master Windu's voice froze the air, temperature fleeing his usual neutral tones. "Do you realise that your reckless decision nearly cost the success of a very important mission?!"

Obi-Wan's stormy eyes were unusually defiant as he met the Council Member's smouldering gaze. "Yes I do, Master Windu," he answered steadily with a hint of stone. "And I would do it again if the situation called for it."

A collective intake of breath went round the Council Chamber. Master Windu looked about ready to explode but, his voice, when it came, was tightly controlled. "Padawan Kenobi," he said. "You are ordered to return to your quarters. The Council strongly suggests that you mediate on the dangers of letting your emotions govern your decisions. In the mean time we will decide on what action to take over this. You are dismissed."

Obi-Wan bowed stiffly and turned to leave. His cheeks burned but he was unrepentant. On swift strides he departed the Council Chamber.

Qui-Gon was waiting outside. "Padawan?"

"I am ordered to return to our quarters and mediate on my actions while they decide on what to do with me." Obi-Wan repeated tersely. His fists were balls of frustration at his side.

The tall Master fell into step with his smarting Padawan, a slight limp the only indication that all was not well with him. "Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon reached out a hand to try and calm the boy but Obi-Wan shrugged it off, shaking. Frowning Qui-Gon folded his hands into his long sleeves. "Padawan, you will calm yourself. The Council sees this lack of control and--"

"I could not leave you to die, Master!" Obi-Wan burst out. "I just… couldn't!"

Startled into silence, Qui-Gon stared down at his apprentice. All lectures falling dead on his lips.

"I could not leave," the young voice dropped to a choked whisper. "I could not just get out and leave you there. Don't they understand it?!"

Helpless words and they struck deeply at Qui-Gon. Wasn't that a question he found himself constantly asking? He sighed deeply, going over in his mind all the confrontations he had ever had in that high chamber. He shook his head. No, understanding was sadly not a word he could always attribute to the Council.

But, understanding or not, even they weren't blind to the fact that the training bond that existed between him and Obi-Wan was unusually strong. It was a powerful connection, hard to explain and one that served to rattle the Council at times. A dangerous attachment, they would call it.

Maybe they were right. Obi-Wan had staked the safety of their entire mission on rescuing his Master. That was wrong of a Jedi and the Council took such behaviour _very_ seriously. To them the safety of a planet's peace was paramount and as Jedi they should not let their attachments interfere with their duty to ensure that safety. They were trained from an early age to let go of such things.

But Obi-Wan had not been thinking as a Jedi when he had acted. Something infinitely more powerful had come shining through and Qui-Gon couldn't deny that it was an instinct that he himself had come to know intimately.

It was the same drive that had caused him to smash into the Council's beliefs so many times in his own lifetime.

He did know.

But could he really stand by and let his Padawan put himself in danger like he had? If Obi-Wan had died for his sake…

He sighed, shuttering away his feelings behind a proper Masterly look. It would not do for Obi-Wan to see the same faults in his Master that the Council had just finished verbally flogging him for. Not if he wanted him to listen and keep himself out of unnecessary danger from now on. He couldn't bear the thought.

"Obi-Wan it doesn't matter whether they understand or not," he said. "You cannot blatantly put your life and others at risk. Even for me. Do you understand that?"

Obi-Wan lowered his head under his stern gaze. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded. Satisfied by the contrite answer, he walked on a few steps before attempting some levity for his Padawan's sake. "I heard you talk back to Master Windu," he said with a long sideways look at Obi-Wan. His lips quirked in silent amusement.

Down though he was, Obi-Wan could not fail to notice the expression. "May I ask what you find so funny, Master?" he asked stiffly.

Qui-Gon's smile became teasing. "I've just realised that the notoriously unbending Obi-Wan Kenobi isn't quite so different from his rebellious old Master as he'd like to believe sometimes."

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes and managed a somewhat sad smile. "I suppose not," he said and Qui-Gon was dismayed to see that his jest had backfired. Obi-Wan's head bowed lower even as his arms came up to fold protectively across his chest. "I'm sorry, Master," he said. "I've tried, I really have tried to be all that the Council and the Jedi need me to be. Ever since Melida/Daan... But I just can't help it!" The auburn head shook helplessly. "I know," his voice dropped so low that Qui-Gon had to strain to hear him, "I know as a Jedi I should be prepared to let go of those that I… that I… care about…" his eyes flickered briefly to Qui-Gon's before nailing themselves to the floor again. "But I just couldn't do it, Master. It felt like I was tearing myself to pieces and I couldn't let go of the pain. I should be able to, but I couldn't. Is that so wrong of me?" The miserable eyes lifted, searching his.

Qui-Gon felt his heart twist and his resolve to remain the properly stoic Jedi Master in this instance cracked. He had never seen such a naked look on his Padawan's face. _Obi-Wan…_

His eyes were suddenly wrenched wide open to the pain Obi-Wan was feeling.

What had he been doing? His Padawan was hurting and he had let his own selfish fear blind him to just how much.

In an instant he cast aside his role as a Master and the tenets of the Jedi. Council be damned. Obi-Wan needed him right now. Needed truth, wisdom and understanding. Not to have his feelings callously pushed aside by stern platitudes.

The calm Jedi mask melted from his face and in that moment he was just Qui-Gon, a man who loved his apprentice more than life itself. Like any father. Something he realised he should have done from the start.

Dropping to his knees, Qui-Gon caught the trembling chin in a large hand, and his next words when they came, came from the heart. "No, my Obi-Wan, it is not wrong to feel these things," he said softly, firmly. "_You are not wrong_. We _are_ Jedi, Padawan, and that means we sometimes have to make sacrifices that other people could barely begin to comprehend. It is part of our duty. And as such we can never allow ourselves the attachments that others so freely enjoy. That sets us apart.

"But," he placed a hand over Obi-Wan's heart, "deep inside here, we are all of us the same and if the people we love are in danger then we would go through any barrier to protect them. No amount of Jedi training will ever change that fully. And it never should."

It was a knowledge that the Council, with all their lofty talk, could never seem to understand. A Jedi who didn't feel could have no compassion for the troubles of others and therefore had no business being what he was.

Yes it was wrong to fear loss, to entertain anger. But it was equally wrong to shut out your emotions and abandon somebody you loved when you knew it was within your power to save them. That was not darkness. That was light. Qui-Gon pitied and resented the Council for such blindness. How dare they slight his Padawan for his heart.

He shrugged off his anger with an effort. They didn't matter now.

Gently, he lifted Obi-Wan's chin until their eyes met. "You are not wrong, Padawan, merely human. And despite how many believe we should behave differently as Jedi," Qui-Gon caressed the smooth cheek, his eyes he confessing the deep feeling that Obi-Wan had so shyly admitted before, "I would have you know, my Obi-Wan, that if the situation had been reversed, I would never have left you behind, either. Never in all the Force could I have left you."

And if that's what the Council so vehemently disapproved of then let it be so.

Obi-Wan's eyes were over bright as he reached up to grasp the hand that still rested upon his chest. A thousand and one things he wanted to say crossed his mind in that moment, but in the end there was only one thing he could say,

"I know."

Qui-Gon smiled and pulled the boy to his chest in a warm embrace before rising. Side by side they walked back to their quarters, taking in the much needed solace found in each other's beloved company. Peace and contentment swelled between and around them, shining outwards and obliterating all else.

And if an observer had been fortunate enough to spy them in that moment, their eyes would not have beheld the all powerful guardians of the galaxy, but simply a father and his son.

The Council could cast their decision.

_Why can't they understand the way we feel?  
They just don't trust  
What they can't explain  
I know we're different but,  
Deep inside us  
We're not that different at all_


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

The biting wind tore past the mouth of the cave, searching for and stripping the warm life from any creature foolish enough to be caught in its swirling path.

"Why can we never be sent anywhere nice, Master?" Obi-Wan murmured from somewhere within the folds of their shared blankets.

Qui-Gon sighed. "I have no idea, Padawan."

It did indeed seem like he and Obi-Wan were getting to see less and less of the good side of life in this galaxy, but sending them to Rantive 4 to negotiate peace between the warring native tribes in the middle of winter was an all time low.

"I have a theory," Obi-Wan stated. "This is punishment. My cold feet are pay back for all those times you've upset the Council." The Padawan freed his covered head so that he could look at the older man. "Maybe if you'd stop annoying them so much, Master, and actually did as they asked for a change, we might be sent somewhere with at least a fully functioning sanitary system."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "And here I thought you enjoyed traipsing around in the wilderness with me. Besides, the Council should now be well used to my more er… rebellious tendencies. If I did suddenly start doing as they asked Master Windu is liable to become one with the Force and I couldn't have that on my conscience."

That drew a laugh and Obi-Wan allowed him to win the point. After all, frozen toes and hungriness aside, today was a special day.

The wind selfishly continued to howl outside their makeshift home, uncaring of the occasion. But Obi-Wan barely heard it now, feeling that despite the miserable conditions and lack of celebration he should at least make some sort of an acknowledgement. He only wished they could have been at home.

"Ten years now, Master," he said.

"I know" Qui-Gon murmured, not needing an explanation. Ten years to the day since he had taken Obi-Wan as his Padawan. The tenth anniversary of that fateful day on Bandomeer when his life had started anew. Gazing down at Obi-Wan the Master did not know where the time had fled to but suddenly here he sat beside a young man no longer a boy.

Qui-Gon felt a strange sadness fill his heart. "Such a long time," he said, "and yet seemingly no time at all."

Obi-Wan was quick to pick up on the sudden change in his mood and frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied distantly. "Just an old fool's regret."

"Don't say that, Master," Obi-Wan tightened the arm that rested around Qui-Gon's waist. "You're not old."

Qui-Gon laughed, not so distracted as to miss the teasing behind the serious tone. "So I'm a fool, then?"

Obi-Wan smiled mischievously at him, blue-green eyes dancing in the dim light. "Maybe sometimes, but I still hold out the hope that one day you will behave in the manner expected of a Master in your position. And then maybe one day we will be given a more civilized assignment."

Qui-Gon snorted. "I'll let you be dignified enough for the both of us, Obi-Wan. Force knows you worry enough for two."

"Is that a bad thing? If I didn't at lest attempt to curb your more 'rebellious tendencies' I fully believe we'd have been sent to parley with a sarlacc years ago."

Qui-Gon laughed again, delighting in his apprentice's humour, so rare in its easy appearance.

"More than likely, Padawan," he responded, tightening his arm round Obi-Wan's shoulders. "More than likely."

The day drew on with no sign of the storm outside abating. The wind howled to new levels of ferocity and the temperature plummeted along with the darkness of the oncoming night.

The two Jedi kept warm only through the heat generated between their tightly pressed bodies. Desperately they tried to find sleep lying on the hard floor buried beneath their combined cloaks and survival blankets. And still Obi-Wan's teeth were chattering.

"It's so c-cold, Master," he whispered.

Qui-Gon looked down his chin at the pale face resting against his shoulder. Obi-Wan's lips had turned a faint blue and the hands tucked against his chest were like blocks of ice. His Padawan was faring far worse than he was in this damned climate. Silently Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's smaller, frigid hands and tucked them beneath his arms in a attempt to keep them warm. It would be bad news if frost bite was allowed to take hold.

Some tenth anniversary this was turning out to be.

Deciding that sleep would be far from attainable tonight, Qui-Gon searched his mind for a possible distraction from the miserable situation. In the end there was only one thing he could think of.

"Shall I tell you a story, Obi-Wan?" he asked.

"A story? Obi-Wan laughed softly. "I don't think anyone's told me a story outside of my crèche days."

Qui-Gon withdrew quickly. "You're right, I'm sorry." Twenty-two year old Padawan's would hardly want to be told stories by their old Masters.

"No," Obi-Wan's head shook slightly against his chest. "I think I'd enjoy that, Master. I like stories."

_I like stories._

Qui-Gon went very still.

Those words… Simple, innocent but suddenly he found himself being thrown back through time, down through many years, back before Xanatos' betrayal to an afternoon spent with a little boy curled under a pile of crushing rubble. _I like stories. Today my fav'ite day._

Sudden clarity struck Qui-Gon like lightning to the brain and before he could discredit it the name was out of his mouth. "Ben?"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and a smile spread across his face. "Mast'a?"

A wondering laugh bubbled from Qui-Gon's throat. "That was you all those years ago?" And quite suddenly it didn't seem so surprising. In fact it answered a lot of questions: the reason behind the strength of their bond, the answer to why there had already been a tentative connection between them when they had first met. "Have you known all this time?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I suspected, but never knew for sure until just now. All I really remember is a comforting presence and a steady voice telling me stories until we were rescued."

Qui-Gon smiled, still reeling from the revelation. Who'd have thought that the little boy to whom he owed his life would turn out to be his very own Padawan.

And finding out today of all days…

"I always knew that you were meant to be my Master," Obi-Wan whispered.

"That you did, my Obi-Wan. Even as a three year old, you were wiser than I."

Obi-Wan smiled and curled in closer to Qui-Gon's form as if he were still that little boy. "Yes. Now how about this story, Master?"

Qui-Gon's heart swelled with simple joy as he tightened his arms, "Very well, Obi-Wan if that is what you wish…" And so Qui-Gon began.

The tale was carefully woven, the plot twisting in unexpected and complicated directions, mindful that his Padawan was now grown with a quick and intellectual mind. Unfortunately that also meant he couldn't get away with as much embellishment like he had the last time.

The bitter night deepened until finally, voice hoarse from the unaccustomed use, Qui-Gon finished his latest masterpiece. He really ought to write some of this down, the amused thought came distantly.

Obi-Wan looked up, a smile playing over his face. "That was even better than I remember, Master," he said. The smile nudged into a grin. "I never did tell Master Allen that you made a better storyteller than him."

"For which I'm eternally grateful, my Padawan. I wouldn't want him thinking I was after his job when I was finally done teaching you and annoying the Council. Which might be quite soon. After all you're soon to be a Knight."

The Padawan shot his Master a startled look, but Qui-Gon's eyes were already closed.

_Soon to be a Knight_

The words resounded in Obi-Wan's head. A frown creased between his brows. Because instead of feeling joy at those longed for words he felt only a sharp stab of regret. He felt that he finally understood the strange sadness lurking within his Master. _Soon to be a Knight…_ Soon to leave Qui-Gon's side as his Padawan. It hadn't struck him before. How would he live his life without the comfort and happiness of being at Qui-Gon's side? Even their most inane conversations and the silences in between were a pleasure. Qui-Gon had been more friend to him than Master over these last years of his apprenticeship, but now there was something deeper. Now they were like old friends. Family.

And very soon he would have to leave.

_Such a long time and yet seemingly no time at all…_

"What is it, Ben?" His own words echoed back to him braking through his reverie.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly at the use of the name. "Nothing, Master, just a young fool's regret."

"Ah."

Callused fingers carded through his hair then. Warmth flowed from them. The ache in his bruising hip eased and his frozen toes tingled comfortingly. Obi-Wan sighed. The warmth spread to his heart, almost aching in the knowledge of how much Qui-Gon cared for him. And with that gift came a simple promise. A promise that this would always be so. Even when he was a grown Knight with a Padawan of his own. This would always be so. They would never lose each other.

The thought served to banish the sadness from both their hearts. Suddenly snow and ice didn't matter anymore, this moment couldn't have been more perfect to either of them had they been warm at home celebrating quietly with a glass of wine and a fine meal.

Wholly content Obi-Wan let the pull of sleep steal him away at last, knowing without doubt that he was safe and loved in Qui-Gon's arms.

"Happy anniversary, Master."

_And you'll be in my heart  
Yes, you'll be in my heart  
From this day on  
Now and forever more  
Always_


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

--_Always, he had promised to remain by his Master's side always._

But now, somehow, he wasn't, and in one fateful second his heart was ripped from his chest.

Qui-Gon staggered, a lethal spear of bloody fire thrusting through his body, agonisingly slow in a moment that stretched forever.

Then he was gone...--

"Nooooo!" Obi-Wan jumped from his fitful sleep, his damp, twisted sheets tangling round his body as he fought to be free of them. "No! Master!" he cried, barely knowing what he was doing.

His distress carried across their quarters to hit Qui-Gon like a fist in the gut. In no time he had crossed the living space and burst into his Padawan's room.

He stopped short at the door. Obi-Wan was sitting on the edge of his bed, bowed down and rocking slightly. Slender arms wrapped around the trembling body as if to ward off some unseen spectre that still danced before the haunted eyes.

Those same eyes flickered his way, devouring him with a desperation that rocked Qui-Gon to the core. "Master," Obi-Wan reached out with a hand that shook on the empty air between them. "Oh, Master."

Qui-Gon swept across the room, engulfing his Padawan's hand with his own before sitting down beside him on the bed.

With a strangled gasp, Obi-Wan collapsed against his side, clinging to Qui-Gon's sleep shirt with a desperate strength, as if fearing the Master would disappear if he let him go.

"Obi-Wan, what is it?" Qui-Gon asked, unable to comprehend what could have caused such a terrible reaction in the normally unflappable twenty-three year old.

Obi-Wan just shook his head wordlessly and tightened his grip on Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon didn't press him. He sensed that Obi-Wan craved only his presence right now, not his words.

Laying a gentle arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders he waited. The answers would come in their own time.

Minutes passed in which the dark room was filled solely with the sound of Obi-Wan's ragged breathing and for a while it seemed that he would never find the words to speak. But then, with a brief flash of pride, Qui-Gon felt the young man reach for the Force, drawing on its infinite strength whilst breathing out his torment. Indeed the boy had grown. All to fast.

The uncontrollable shuddering ceased and Obi-Wan drew back a short way. "I'm sorry, Master," he murmured, turning his face as he dried his eyes self-consciously on his sleeve.

"Don't apologise. You had a nightmare." It was hardly a question.

Obi-Wan shook his head weakly, face deathly pale in the darkened room. "It was more than that, Master," he whispered. "…so much more…"

"A vision?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and made no answer but his stricken silence spoke louder than any word he could have uttered.

Qui-Gon sighed, he had never set much in store by visions. His was the Here and Now, but he had to know what could have disturbed Obi-Wan in this way before he could help him let go this fear.

Tightening his grip on the tense shoulder, he said, "Tell me."

There was a pause as Obi-Wan battled with his straining emotions. He did not wish to speak of the horrors that were still so fresh in his mind but his Master's tone, while gentle, brooked no argument.

"You were in battle, Master," he said finally, "fighting against an unnamed darkness. Darkness like I've never felt or imagined. Never wanted to imagine…" Obi-Wan shuddered, swallowing thickly.

Despite himself Qui-Gon felt a sudden prickle start at the back of his neck. While he had not been partial to the dream he had felt something of it along their bond and it had not been pleasant.

Obi-Wan's grip tightened until it was almost painful. "Such utter blackness and you were alone against it. I could-- I could not reach you, Qui-Gon, no matter how hard I tried. No matter what I did. And then it took you. It killed you right before my eyes and I powerless to stop it."

The quiet voice dropped away to a barely coherent whisper, but each word continued to lace Qui-Gon's heart with ice. An inexplicable foreboding crept into his soul, almost as if the horror of Obi-Wan's dream was escaping its confines, released on his voice to seep into the air, striking at hitherto unknown chords deep within Qui-Gon.

"Then there was nothing, nothing but a terrible sense of responsibility. Darkness. Betrayal. Infinite loss. Grief. Alone. Waiting. So alone…"

Obi-Wan's throat finally closed, strangling his voice into silence.

Suppressing a shudder, Qui-Gon drew Obi-Wan tighter against his side. The vague words had shaken him in a way he could not explain and he struggled to maintain his disregard for such things.

"I cannot let this come to pass, Master," Obi-Wan murmured softly. "I don't think I could survive if this is what truly lies ahead."

Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulder. "Always in motion is the future," he said as much to steady himself as his apprentice.

Obi-Wan nodded against his shoulder but his grip remained tight on Qui-Gon's tunic. "Promise you'll never leave me, Master," he said in a broken whisper so uncharacteristic of his strong Padawan. "Promise you won't ever leave me behind."

Qui-Gon stiffened. Grasping Obi-Wan by the shoulders he pushed his Padawan to arm's length so he could meet those despairing eyes.

"I can never promise that, Obi-Wan," he said firmly.

Obi-Wan looked shocked then hurt and began to turn his face away but Qui-Gon caught his chin and held his gaze firm. "Eventually I will die, Padawan, whether by the darkness in your vision or by some other unforeseen destiny, it will happen someday. It is the way of things. The way of the Force. We each of us have a path to follow and a purpose to fulfil in our lives. Our paths _will_ part someday and when that day comes you have to let me go. It is the hardest lesson I will ever have to teach, but you must. No matter how rocky your way becomes."

Obi-Wan dropped his eyes, struggling to accept his Master's words. He was shaking on the inside and felt like he would break at any second. All he wanted to do was cling to his Master's presence and let it hold him together as it had done so many times. He could never imagine losing that strength in his life. He could never survive what he had just seen without it. "I don't think I can, Master," he said

He expected disapproval but Qui-Gon only smiled gently and his tone softened. "You will understand in time. You are young yet, Obi-Wan, but you will understand some day. I have faith in that." He brushed his cheek. "The Force will be with you, Obi-Wan, always."

Still smiling gently Qui-Gon released his grip and replaced Obi-Wan against his side. "But for now, my young Padawan, all of that is in the future and the present is what is important. We cannot waste the time we have by worrying over what lies ahead."

"No, Master," came the solemn reply.

Qui-Gon sent his approval through their bond, wrapping it in his love and pride. "Sleep, my Obi-Wan," he said. "I have a feeling that our paths will run together for a good time yet."

His Padawan sighed shakily and rested his head against his Master's shoulder but despite Qui-Gon's assuring words it was a long while before his breathing deepened and fell into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Qui-Gon remained with him, eyes watching the distant stars with all their infinite possibilities. It was a beautiful night, peace prevailed and, true to his word, Qui-Gon was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

But despite what he had told his Padawan, deep down he found he couldn't quite shake the foreboding that had crept into his heart this night. What Obi-Wan had foretold was somehow more than just an ordinary, fickle phantom cast upon the winding path that they followed. There was a grain of truth there that even Qui-Gon couldn't deny.

Sighing, he looked down into his Padawan's sleeping face.

The road ahead was barred by darkness. Obi-Wan would have to find his strength.

Silently Qui-Gon brushed the braid back and murmured. "The Force will be with you, Obi-Wan. Always. If nothing else remember that. Then nothing will overcome you."

Impossibly Obi-Wan stirred and in the deepest recesses of his sleeping mind came the reply:

/Yes, Master./

Qui-Gon smiled wanly as he rested his chin in the red-gold hair. Watchful eyes stared at the stars. Yes he had faith.

_When destiny calls you  
You must be strong  
I may not be with you  
But you've got to hold on  
You'll see in time  
I know_

I know.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

"Anakin."

The boy stopped and dashed towards Obi-Wan, breaking loose from the rowdy group of triumphant pilots. His face was alive with excitement.

"I did it!" he cried. "I blew up the control ship!" he skidded to a halt before the haggard young Knight.

Numb to the show of exuberance, Obi-Wan just stared down at the child with broken eyes, reining his screaming grief behind an iron mask as he clutched desperately to the last shred of control that was keeping him upright. That last fragile shred that had kept him from the brink of insanity since the healers had pried Qui-Gon's cooling body from his desperate grip.

He supposed his rigid expression must have come across as disapproving because the boy suddenly looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, sir. But Master Qui-Gon told me to stay in the cockpit--"

"I know, Anakin," Obi-Wan cut across him tightly before the boy could say any more. "You did well."

The child beamed before glancing past Obi-Wan, eyes searching.

Here it came.

"Where's Master Qui-Gon? Is he coming?"

Obi-Wan swallowed, wanting, needing to be somewhere, anywhere else. But he knew that this bitter duty lay with him. "Anakin…" he grasped the boy's shoulders and knelt down. He opened his mouth to speak but he suspected Anakin could already read the terrible truth carved upon his face. "Master Qui-Gon…" his voice trembled dangerously. "Master Qui-Gon didn't make it. He-he didn't make it, Anakin."

The hanger bay around them suddenly grew very still.

"No," the boy whispered, looking towards the door as if willing Qui-Gon to walk through right then and prove that this was all a bad joke.

Obi-Wan hung his head until the boy's attention returned to him. The round blue eyes were now filling with tears, tears that Obi-Wan himself was straining to keep at bay.

In that instant he felt a flash of resentment. His Master was dead and his life was irreparably broken. Why was he here having to comfort this child that he barely knew, the same boy that had threatened to usurp his place at Qui-Gon's side? He shouldn't have to do it. It was unfair!

But deep down he knew that that was a selfish thought. One unworthy of him and the Jedi.

The boy had begun to shake with the effort of holding back his tears. Obi-Wan sighed. Firmly pushing his resentment deep down where it could not yet be felt, he took pity and reached out, drawing the boy against him.

It was all that was needed to send Anakin over the edge. The boy collapsed against Obi-Wan's chest as he cried out his grief and confusion into the soft, creamy tunics.

Obi-Wan held him silently, waiting patiently for the storm to subside. Providing shelter like Qui-Gon had always done for him.

A shudder of pain tore through his body and Obi-Wan felt his ragged control crack. That last shred had begun to fray. He closed his eyes against the burning tears. _Please…_ He just wanted to be away from here now.

After what seemed like forever, Anakin's sobs finally eased and the boy drew away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, reluctant to meet Obi-Wan's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan, sir," he mumbled to the ground.

Drawing breath, Obi-Wan reached out a trembling hand and lifted his chin, wiping the last tear away from his cheek. "It's alright, Anakin," he croaked.

The boy nodded slowly then turned from him. Amidala had appeared somewhere during the proceedings and she stepped up to kneel before the boy, ruffling his hair sympathetically.

Thanking every small mercy in the universe for the distraction Obi-Wan bowed swiftly to the Queen and turned on his heel.

He had to get out of there.

His composure was breaking.

All but running through the Palace Obi-Wan did not break stride until he had reached his assigned quarters and barricaded himself inside.

And there his fragile shields shattered. All his checked emotions came rushing forth to hit him afresh in single a crushing wave. Anger, grief, guilt, pain, shear blinding _pain_.

With a wail of anguish, Obi-Wan collapsed to his knees in the middle of the floor, burying his face in the soft carpet and soaking it in endless tears. He wrapped his arms around his head and could not breathe for the cries that tore from his throat.

He felt as if he would scream forever.

The terrible day grew old and night set in but still Obi-Wan did not move. Not even when he sensed a powerful presence approaching and heard the bolted door being drawn to permit an entrance. He knew instantly who it was and he resented the disturbance.

So, his message had gotten through after all, he thought bitterly.

He tensed as a tiny three fingered hand came to rest in his hair, but still he did not look up.

"With the Force he is now, Obi-Wan," Yoda said. "Let him go you should."

That did it. A sudden searing rage ripped through Obi-Wan. Rage at the little Master for speaking those hated words and rage at the Force for taking Qui-Gon from him before he was ready to say goodbye.

Jumping to his feet he backed sharply away from the ancient Master who was regarding him steadily from the floor. "Let him go?! Well as I see it he is already gone. That Sith took him from me and I did nothing! Nothing!"

Tears spilled down over his cheeks, hot and stinging, but he refused to heed them.

"Change what happened, you think you could have?" Infuriatingly calm.

Obi-Wan spun away, hiding his face. In a strangled voice he said, "I should have been there. Protected him from that beast! I should have done _something_! Found a way to save him!"

"Perfect you are not," Yoda answered steadily. "Claim that nobody can. Skilled warrior the Sith was. Not your fault it is."

Obi-Wan was shaking with fury. How dare anybody try to ease his grief when this blame was his to bear. Desperately he tried to release his turmoil… and failed miserably.

With a wild cry he faced the waiting Master. "It's all my fault! I was his Padawan! His friend! _I could have saved him!_" Suddenly spent, Obi-Wan crumpled slowly to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably at Yoda's clawed feet.

Yoda said nothing, could say nothing to help him. Not yet. He just reached into the Force and focused it on the Padawan's raging emotions, blunting them as much as he could until he knew that Obi-Wan was safe to leave.

"Not your fault it is, Obi-Wan," he said finally. "Let him go, as he would want, heal you it will." With those words Yoda shuffled towards the door, closing it behind him and leaving Obi-Wan alone once more.

Alone.

Unable to bear the silence crushing in on him, Obi-Wan grabbed Qui-Gon's cloak from where he had left it and stumbled outside onto the balcony before dropping back to the ground beneath the blanket of watchful stars.

Shuddering he wrapped himself in the familiar, worn fabric of Qui-Gon's cloak, inhaling the comforting scent.

Slowly his anger burnt out, leaving only a cold emptiness in its wake. He felt like dying himself.

"I'm so sorry, Master," he murmured to the empty air. "I should have been quicker… could have been there… could have reached you in time. It's all my fault… forgive me." The senseless words fell from his mouth but Obi-Wan did nothing to stem their flow. A cool breeze brushed past and he held his Master's cloak more securely around his shoulders. He shuddered as if crying but in truth he had no more tears left to shed.

Feeling hot and cold at the same time he cast his gaze to the stars. "Force, help me, Master. I can't do this. I need you so much."

His Master had been wrong. The Force could never be with him if it allowed this. He was lost. Lost.

_Help me._

Help me…

Exhaustion stole over him, and its senseless folds engulfed him without him even being aware of it.

He was almost gone, his mind falling completely quiet, when he felt something touch him. A warmth, vague and indefinable.

Stirring slightly Obi-Wan opened his sandpaper eyes, but no one was around. Confused he closed his eyes again--only to be disturbed once more by that same warm contact. Irritable, he reached out reluctantly with the Force instead, trying to find what had woken him.

And then he felt it, a tendril of warmth, familiar and alien at the same time, and it reached for him even as he reached for it.

Gently it brushed at him, sending strength and light into his heart, and suddenly Obi-Wan knew without a doubt source of the warmth that touched him so softly.

"Master?"

The warmth sparked.

Choking, Obi-Wan's eyes suddenly discovered fresh reserves of tears, but this time they were mixed with a kind of bittersweet joy.

"You're here," he murmured. Unnecessary words but he said them anyway, if only to make this more real.

Warmth brushed at the corners of his mind and impossibly there came an answer, It did not come in words, nor even the thought of them, but somehow Obi-Wan understood. _I am always here, my Padawan. So long as you can turn and remember…_

And suddenly, unexpected and unbidden, there came pouring from his heart a lifetime of memories, precious moments garnered like eternal gems over many years, each day spent, the laughter, the tears, the comfort. The love. Each one was part of his very heart and soul.

Just as they were part of Qui-Gon's.

The presence stayed with him throughout in a treasured moment that seemed to last forever, sharing in the precious memories until each one had been relived and locked securely in a place where nothing could ever take them away.

_Always there._

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. _Yes._

A touch to his cheek, then Qui-Gon softly began to withdraw.

Obi-Wan's heart lurched. His mind blanked at the thought of Qui-Gon leaving him a second time. Of him leaving once more without ever having heard all that was in his heart. There was still so much he had to say. Obi-Wan fumbled for the words but in the end he found there was only one thing that was important. _I love you, my Master,_ Obi-Wan threw the thought down their waning link, knowing that it might be the last chance he would ever have to say it. He wanted, needed, Qui-Gon to know.

And Qui-Gon heard him.

Obi-Wan would never again forget what happened next and it would see him through all the darkness of the galaxy.

Joy flared to life along their link as the confession was absorbed. Peace, happiness and pure, boundless love. The emotions of a spirit grown far too powerful to be contained by the mere crude matter of flesh and blood, all wrapped around him in a single moment that took his breath away. They infused themselves with Obi-Wan in a great blinding crescendo, shining like a radiant light and enhancing the beauty of all that existed in a final benediction of love, pride and... hope before finally letting go, dispersing back into the essence of the Force.

The night became serene and still once more. Hushed.

With a gasp, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. His hands trembled, unable for the moment to take it all in.

Qui-Gon had given him everything. All that he was and all that he felt.

A bittersweet smile crept onto Obi-Wan's face. No words had been spoken and none had been necessary. Everything had been shared in that one moment of time and he knew now without a doubt that he had been loved beyond anything he had ever thought possible.

But most importantly of all he finally knew that Qui-Gon was happy. He was truly one with the Force. Truly at peace. And suddenly that was enough for Obi-Wan.

Drawing a cleansing breath, he looked around with a renewed purpose. He almost expected the world to have changed somehow, but everything remained as it had when he had dashed out here, blind in his grief.

He was still alone upon the balcony, the silence of the night hanging all around. But something had changed within himself. Somewhere deep inside him he knew Qui-Gon remained, radiating part of his new found peace. And his love. There was no doubt about that now.

The wind whistled through the trees, swirling around him and then finally grew still.

_Always there…_

A last reminder of something he should have known all along.

Obi-Wan sighed and wiped his eyes, suddenly ashamed for his lack of control. He had to pull himself together, for Anakin's sake, if not for his. The boy needed a Master. It was what Qui-Gon had wanted. He would go on for Anakin. For his Master. He would make sure his faith in him was justified.

With that thought Obi-Wan pulled himself stiffly from the ground, setting the first foot on the impossible path.

_Thank you, Master._

He glanced one last time at the stars before walking slowly back inside. He was bone tired but instead of going to the bed he knelt upon the floor. He needed to meditate and recover his centre. Breathing slowly and deeply he drew Qui-Gon's cloak across his knees and cleared his mind, letting all else fade away. When he did, he felt, for a brief instant, the little spark that was his Master.

It hung there as he meditated and Obi-Wan turned to it, gladly embracing the reminder of what he would always have.

And somewhere in the Force Qui-Gon smiled.

_Oh, You'll be in my heart  
No matter what they say  
You'll be here in my heart Always.  
Always…_

I'll be with you  
I'll be there for you always.  
Always and always

Just look over your shoulder  
Just look over your shoulder  
Just look over your shoulder  
I'll be there,  
Always

The End.


End file.
